


Adventures and Misadventures on the High Seas: The Tale of the Dread Captain Ren

by unicornsandbutane



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 18th Century, Come Shot, M/M, Merman Hux, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:39:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11513301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornsandbutane/pseuds/unicornsandbutane
Summary: Captain Kylo Ren is cast adrift on the Sargasso Sea, and meets a creature heretofore thought of as mere myth.Written in the 18th century style, which means first person extended prose.





	Adventures and Misadventures on the High Seas: The Tale of the Dread Captain Ren

The fumes of my resentment as yet still hanging o'er me-- as dense a fog as any blighting that well-remembered Billingsgate dock whence I set out on this fateful journey-- I lay, as did Lazarus in his tomb, quiet, and still. Unlike he, that old disciple, I had no prospect of a kindly hand from the Divine to lift me from certain destruction. Nay, my fate had been sealed long before, when I cast my lot with the pirates and privateers making use of that expanse, the Western Ocean, upon which I now was cast adrift and whose restless surface would, some days hence, surely form the unconsecrated cover of my grave. 

Alone but for the passing shadows of sea birds, with not even a happy cloud to offer brief shelter, I allowed the gentle rocking of my boat-- at once my temple and my coffin-- to lull me, those calm waters that the /conquistadores/ named for their placidly floating grasses carrying my small vessel into oblivion and giving me over to strange dreams. The family I had abandoned, and the crew who had in turn abandoned me, appeared as fang-mouthed demons and blackened ghosts as I drifted, their faces wrought from the knots in the wood that cradled me, their voices in the shrieks of daring seahawks overhead. I could imagine that those cries, hither and thither as the birds circled and dove, discussed what would become of me, and when. Did my mutinous crew spare a thought for that when they condemned me to pass like flotsam into this crystal blue waste, this Purgatory of bald skies and barren sea? Did they wonder now, as they cavorted with the vessel that was mine by right, leaving my goals undone and my purpose unfulfilled, whether first hunger, or thirst, or madness should take me? I placed bets with myself, that it would be the want of water, else the barbarous scourging by the relentless sun, before the affliction of my own mind should end my life.

That same sun, o great and terrible, that did the ancients worship and which bids polite ladies hide their flesh, found its reach in every part of me. The heat, unseasonable in what was once to me the familiar Atlantic, seared my very bones, made me ache to quit from its loathsome gaze. To wit, I trailed my hand in the calm water that I knew would soon be the instrument of my demise when from that glittering blue did a hand grasp my own.

Then did I worry that madness had taken me first, but the hand was followed by a long, pale arm, and then, a round, pale face, like the reflection of the moon on still waters. The vision floated up out of the sea, head and shoulders, then grasped the side of my small vessel and I could but scrabble for the lee side, else the poor boat should have capsized. To behold that milky visage, peering at me from sea-green eyes, my father's old fisherman's tales rose up in my mind like jetsam surfacing from the deep, of monsters that lurked beneath the waves, and lured sailors to their doom. If this was truly such a creature, I warranted it had come too late, as I was already condemned: marked as Cain was, by a cutlass slash across my face, delivered by that scrap of a girl mutineer. I thought, if this monster sought to drown me, that may even be a small mercy, with the sun and the salt as contenders. In truth, it looked spitting mad, fit to pull me into the slowly turning gyre. Or, perhaps t'was only a manifestation of my own despair. Well, vision or villain, the tales of such sirens being of incomparable beauty seemed to be true: Even seething with fury, or perhaps especially because of it, the lithe body and snarling face fit nigh perfectly with my scarce-indulged predilections. It hissed at me and I had no response for it. Perhaps it meant to devour me. The devil tempted me to ask to do some devouring of my own, first. 

"Turn back," the monster said, its voice snapping like a topsail in a gale. "Leave my sea at once!"

It spoke well, for a monster. I  wondered if it could sing, as the legends often said. Unable to see what lay beneath the waves, I imagined for the creature a long, powerful tail, shining with scales and tipped with diaphanous fins. 

"If you mean to destroy me, they've spoiled the game. Without oars, I am stranded, unless a rogue wave should push me into a lucky current," I said, for what was the harm in addressing a vision, with none but the birds to hear it? Leaning back in the bottom of the boat and considering the sky, I remembered the Caribbean ports to which I had given custom. It felt like a lifetime away, the leagues and fathoms between me and those rum-soaked halls could well have been the distance between my boat and Heaven's gate, but I vowed, if I ever made it back to Santa Cruz I would smartly keelhaul every man-jack who ever knew my name. 

The creature lifted its chin imperiously, its hair worn long about his shoulders like a pagan prince catching the noonday light, and sniffed, suspicious. It allowed me but a capricious glance at its red-rimmed fluttering gills. 

"What do you mean, 'they'?" It asked, flicking wet hair out of its eyes. It must have combed regularly, for such long hair to be so smooth. 

"'They', my mutinous crew," I retorted, some heady vapour of my ire fogging again my senses. At the curl of my lip, the mark bisecting my face pulled, and stung most intensely. "They mean for me to starve, or else drown myself." 

"That sounds exceptionally disloyal." There was a splash in the water, and I could only presume it was the creature's tail, lashing like a street cat's might, but as yet I hadn't seen it. The monster cut its eyes at me, as though it knew all my sins, but asked, "What did you do to deserve it?" 

"Nothing!" said I, and though the vehemence of my assertion gave the creature neither to pity nor scorn, I hammered with my fist against the planks. The monster flinched not one bit and I wanted nothing more than to run a marlinspike through a mainsail. "There was a girl," I said, obliging to tell my tale, but plainly, the monster  assumed wrongly.

"Ah," said the beast, with a dismissive toss of its head. "I've heard tell of the ways in which sailors are ruined by women." 

"No!" I cried, wanting to hear no such talk, no wicked suggestion nor insinuation. "Alone on a deserted island we found her. She'd not seen fit to leave it. She'd seen a map, i'faith. A map I coveted most dearly." Need I have explained this to a monster, or, conversely, to an invention of my own mind? Any ear to the woes of a scoundrel, I warranted, but again the creature mistook my meaning.

"A treasure?" the creature asked, intimating with the tilt of its head.

I could but scoff. "An island," I corrected. Then, "an old enemy. But the girl-- she turned the crew against me, and made sure I would never have my vengeance. That old blackguard should not see his way to hell 'less I put him there." 

The monster clicked its tongue, it would scarcely withhold a tut. "You led them on a personal folly. Why should they have followed?" 

"You know nothing!" I roared, hitting again the leeside gunwhale. "This world would be better without him in it! He is a poison, a blight! You are but a monster, what know you of the affairs of men?" 

The beast sank into the deep and I,  expecting its retribution, knelt to peer into the clear water. Like a whale's spout, the creature burst free from the depths and surged into the boat alongside me. Its tail smacked hard against my legs, and it wasn't smooth with shining scales at all, but caught against my rough trousers. Its vertical tail fin looked hale and strong, and its skin dappled with irregular spots, the two darkest being just under the hips and ringed by white. It had another fin, too, like a dolphin or shark sitting betwixt where would be its aft were it human. I swallowed.

"I know enough," the creature hissed. "Bear an ear, damme! Must I bring to every minute for you? You worry over petty concerns, and take no notice even when larger machinations are at work about you."

The monster lifted itself, poised o'er me glistening. In this fashion, it made of itself an obscene display, for I could then see full well of its equipment. So distracted was I by the sight, I failed to make rejoinder, save this:

"To what do you refer?" I mumbled, I must say, unimpressively, as I watched the inhuman appendages at the front of the beast's tail move with that long, strange body, roughly where, were he not some fantastic monster, I would expect its sex.

"The volcano," the cunning creature replied. 

Casting my eyes to the horizon, I thought of it. Of course I knew I'd never see all the way to Iceland, but I knew of the brimstone cloud curdling the air, souring the breath, poisoning great swaths of Europe. 

"How?" I asked, but the creature only tossed its hair again, in its way.  Because I had already seen my share of impossible things, I cajoled it: "Perhaps you could make a mark of a different island, next time. Rid me of my enemy."

The monster, with a mean look, tucked a lock of its long hair behind its ear, which was ridged by small, fin-like points. "And why should I do such a favour for you?" it spat in a haughty tone.

I realized then how my next actions were of bare and paltry consequence, with death so close to hand. I asked, "Suppose I offered you a favor in return?"

The creature clicked its tongue, its tail lashing derisively against the side of the boat. "I don't see anything you could offer me," it replied.

"Oh no?" I urged, giving this monster a portentous look that traced its uncanny curves. "Are you considering all the possibilities?"

Fine brows drew together as the creature got my meaning. "Your kind is said to have something of a... a fondness, for my people. A fatal fondness, oftentimes." 

"I'm doomed in any case. What does it matter the instrument of my destruction?" 

"Hm," the monster prevaricated, spending long moments in thought over the sight of my legs. "Is it true that human males do not have a cloacal opening?" 

"I don't believe we do. Care to explain what such a thing may be?"

With a slight moue and a wicked glint in its eyes, the creature reached for my own hand. Its fingers were cool and shallowly webbed, but otherwise not dissimilar from a human's. It pulled at my arm, and I went, allowing the fey thing to direct my hand until it brushed the rasp of its shark-like skin. 

My hands were rough, work-hardened, but not so much as that alien texture, which, guided by the creature's hand, I felt with slight awe until my fingers met a slight furrow, and slipped inside. 

I have been called many things in my life: a rogue, a rascal, a cad and a villain,  a wicked, beggarly miscreant, a sanguinous tar and a scoundrel. But, for all these qualities of my manner and person, /this/ as yet was something undiscovered, a pleasure heretofore unknown. My tongue sat heavy in my mouth as I struggled valiantly for something to say to the saucy creature, and it seemed to guess at my indecision, sucked its teeth, chastising. 

"You did ask," it reminded me. "/Offered,/ even."

Struck dumb by the slick interior of... whatever it was the creature had bade me touch, I remained silent, merely watching my fingers disappear into the monster's willing body. At the barest twitch of my fingers, the damned beast sighed, and my mind seemed to swim with visions. "What would you have me do?" I asked, noting with chagrin the hoarseness of my voice.

The creature clicked its tongue again. It was such a /human/ expression of impatience, and I could not hope to answer it, not whilst I mapped this secret topography, charted the recesses within. "Are you an imbecile?" the monster snipped at me, pushing at my hand, first with its own hand, and then with the two fleshy appendages which hung at either side of the channel into which it had thrust my fingers. They wrapped about my wrist, and I gave in, groaning out my surprise and pleasure, stroking my fingers carefully along smooth, cartilagenous ridges. The appendages, strong but graceless, pulled insistently at my wrist until I was made to withdraw my fingers an inch or two before pushing them back in again. Only then did the monster relax against the forward thwart, its face and chest going pink, a coy smile haunting its lips. I listened to the pitch of its breath, rising over the creak of the planks, the splash of small currents against them. It drew its fingers up its ribs, over its collarbones to trill delicately at its gills. I wondered, should I fix my mouth to a fluttering slit and lick into it, taste its very breath, what kinds of sounds would the monster make then? 

"How do humans mate?" it asked, startling me from my musings. "Without a channel nor claspers, how does a human hold his chosen, or give his seed?" 

It clearly thought whichever way Man had found to continue his species must be terribly strange. I gestured to it with my free hand, bade it sit up and untie my breeches. When it had dispatched with them, it glared for a long moment at me in dishabille before taking into its hand the heat of me. Oh, my breath stuttered at its cool, tantalizing touch. As it explored me, so I explored its folds, those grasping members less insistent now as the creature split its focus between my questing fingers and its own investigation. 

"How strange it must be to mate without the water to bear you," it murmured. "It must be a strenuous, arduous business."

"Could I but breathe in the surf I would happily spin out my pleasure there with you. But what of the sluggish nature of motion, submerged in salt waters?" I sped the clip of my fingers within, saw a steady blush gain ground over the paleness of its face. "Do you not want for the con-friction we enjoy out in the air?"

The beast gave no answer but for a bubbling moan, a gasp of ecstasy, a fluttering of the thin onionskin of its eyelids. 

"There are other ways," I offered mildly, teasing my fingers around the rim of its channel. Its fingers had warmed from their acquaintance with my affair ready erected, and trailed curiously along the slit at its terminus. These light touches, concerned not with my pleasure but chiefly with its own edification, delivered me into distraction, set me to lip-biting and hip-driving. 

"Oh?" it replied, breathless. "What other diversions have you?"

I moved with care on my knees, rocking the boat on its axis as I made to straddle the creature's enchanting tail, to gain a completer sight of one of its most foreign charms of attraction, so that as I leaned with it under me, my face was brought near to the pink slashes across its throat, their luxuriant interiors, enticing in color, fluttering shyly as the monster sucked in quick breaths. Slowly, so the beast could glean my intentions, had time to drive me off should it wish to, I bent to those delicate lines drawn neatly into its neck, and pressed my lips to the edge. The creature gasped, and trembled, but nevertheless tipped its head, and in that attitude gave  more convenient passage that I might lick into those inviting slits and feel them shiver against my mouth. When the beast began to give up moans to the sky, I felt them, rolling into me, perfectly fevered and maddened with the heat of this exercise. Tasting the salt of his skin, the crenellations in the hidden recesses of his gills, I felt as though I had the whole of the ocean at my chaps. At last, inspired by passion, the creature threw arms about my neck and began to whisper, its body writhing so at my center I touched its sweetly critical point.

"Have you a name, sailor?" it queried, and had I still deceived myself to think it were a vision I would think it asked that I would reflect upon the many names I'd had in my years: the name my father gave me, the name I took when I quit my mother's home in Boston and set for England, the name bestowed by my crew, the name decried in print where was spake the English tongue and by the Navies which hunted like hounds. Which of these was the truth of myself? 

"I have," said I. "Kylo Ren, captain of the ship, Commander."

The damned thing tittered breathlessly and brought to my ear its lips to say, "Former captain."

I sought to bring it to bear for such a slight, and did so, by setting my teeth into its glowing white flesh, leaving there a mark which shone brightly even among its many sun-scattered freckles which adorned the attractive slope of its shoulder. It did not at that seem too offended, but again moved as if in agitation to bring us close at our cores. Its tail lashed in the boat and it reached for me, bringing its hand about my shaft and then, more than just its hand; those exquisitely alien appendages which flanked its curious niche blindly massaged me, and drew me thence to the mouth of its nature. 

I bid it wait as I stripped my shirt, and gave the skin of my back  unto the freedom of the air. The creature paused in its excitations, pushed at my shoulders to look at me. 

"What! I never heard of any men having scales!" it exclaimed, and I laughed, resting back against the burden boards and sternsheets. It followed gamely, lying its full breadth o'er top of me, and I proffered an arm for inspection.

"They are but tattoos, flesh all the same," I replied, and allowed it to trace its finger over the deep blue lines. Of course, it ignored utterly the one I'd most contemplated since being left to my fate, showing skeletal Death grasping an anchor, but traipsed its digits instead along the marks outlining a vicious fish-tailed siren brandishing an Arabian blade. Saying nothing of this, but conveying its amusement with a wicked look, the beast moved away from these, and felt instead at the scars which arced o'er my shoulders, all alongside me, culminating in the largest, almost at the pit of my belly. 

"It seems you've made a habit of cheating death," the monster mused.

"The old deceiver is tapping his foot for my soul, indeed."

"You mean swimming in circles."

"As you like," I returned, and the beast gave up a quiet laugh before pressing me chest to chest, drawing his lips to mine, and fairly covering my face with kisses. It demanded of me to kiss in reply, to take its hunger, to hold and to pet its well-made back, its agreeable arms, even its roughly textured rear. Its belly, thank whatever powers had led me to this conclusion, was far more smooth, like that of a dolphin, and did not pain me to be pressed full-length atop me. I smoothed my hand with some awe and great curiosity up that commanding fin which broke the line of its back, and felt the creature's grin against me, as it slowly began laying at me again with swelling motions of its lower extremity. Those appendages gripped for me, found purchase in the shallows of my hips, and aligned its furrow with the shaft of me so I could have no doubt of its intentions. 

"Have you a name as well, you fine creature?" I asked, my fingers drawn by its lustrous hair, to comb through it and watch the strands of gold and copper shift most enchantingly. 

"Hux," it said, "and you should know it too, for by my actions your cities will be brought low." 

I petted down its back again, and thought, 'have I made stranger bedfellows than this?' but could not think much on it, for the rare beast struggled again to bear down upon my core, to push heartily onto the heat of me. With one hand I struck my aim, and the creature gasped as it sank down to the guard, its eyelids fluttering as it came to rest as close and as flush as two bodies could be. 

"You touch me to the heart," it fairly choked, hands grasping for my shoulders, "There," it said then, lifting slightly, a precarious inch, before falling upon me again. "Work, you, that I may know my driver."

Buried to the hilt, I looked upon this creature, its blushing face still righteous and demanding, its chest shaking with quickly indrawn breaths. Hands to its hips I lifted it, bade it rise farther, though its tendrils still sought to hold me, and then moved to meet it as I pulled down. Straining the beast close, I heard its mutter: "Ah, Captain Ren," and hearing it sigh thusly, I aimed at improving my speed and bade the creature receive my every inch. 

It had warmed within, and was slick, and met me easily at my each ingress. With each thrust, which it readily and forwardly encouraged, the beast gave fluting sounds and oaths to take me for my worth, and for all I had to give. True though I wanted only the same, and kissed again at its neck, its gills, its gasping mouth, as its tendrils flexed at my hips and strove to keep me, hold me at the pit of it, that I might never escape from there. 

"Hux," said I, delighting of its name on my tongue, "does it please you well? Does it compare to other dalliances you've endured?"

With a fierce look the creature provoked me to quicken still, and then, it tossed its head back, shook its hair out, bit at its lips and closed its eyes. "Man is very strange," it hissed, undulating to meet my every thrust. "But... in truth, I may be reaching my end..."

Its tail thudded powerfully against the ribs and rising of my small boat, and where we'd been bobbing like a lure in the sea we now began to pitch to and fro with our exertions. The beast scrabbled at my chest with desperate fingers, its body itself a wave as it drove me to my deepest, and there, in extremis, it stilled, quivering, crying out its pleasure to the open sky and pouring out onto me its thick seed with short kicks of its hips and tenses of its tendrils. I felt it clench to push the matter of its climax o'er me, and the warm spray further slicked my way, and as I raged to a point, its hands found my hair and murmured again and again my name. My lips found its neck again, licked over the marks of left there through ungallant use of my teeth, and it pressed my head there, hands in my hair, and whispered, "Again." 

I laid a new bruise there, and the creature moaned and clutched at me and recontinued the sweet battery of its hips with new vigor, accommodated all my motions to answer, and murmured, "Yes, my captain." Then I met the crisis of my pleasure full-force, driving up into the waiting heat of my monstrous spark, groaning into the flesh of its shoulder as I spun out my end. It gasped, and hiccoughed, surprised perhaps at feeling my ultimate joy spent inside its body, and clutched to me, shivering as I laid my terminal thrusts into it. As my provocations slowed I could hear nothing of the sea around us, only the shallow "ah, ah, ah!" hissed into my ear by my darling beast. At last, lulled into the fond disorder to which such activities give rise, I laid back again, and held the creature as I softened within it,  but did not dischannel myself for as long as it pressed kisses to my jaw and murmured that it had never sought to take a man for a partner, had never heeded the tales it had heard of how our kind might be used pleasurably. I only nodded in reply, and drew my hands slowly from the crown of its head to the tip of that angular fin. After a time, the beast grew quiet, and I found it had fallen asleep. 

I allowed the sea to rock us, still pressed as I was inside the creature, still covered with the evidence of its pleasure, until, some time later, though I know not how long for I did not mark the sun while I toyed with the creature's hair, the beast stirred, and pushed up slowly, and gazed at me with the rheum of sleep still clouding its eyes and softening its expression. 

"Come," it said, "let us wash." 

I glanced overboard at the blue water. 

"Will you now take me to be devoured by others of your kind? Do they lurk among these many grasses?" I supposed that, were that to be my fate, there existed little on earth or in Heaven I could do to forestall it. The creature's brows drew together.

"Nay, I am alone here." It paused, and pulling off of me, cut its eyes toward the northern horizon. It was silent for long moments, then, "Like you, I was cast out. The others of my kind did not appreciate what I had done for them."

"You mean by use of the volcano?" I had not thought of my companion as a maroonee, nor thought really of anything but the differences between us; I had not considered what in our histories could indeed align. The creature nodded, though did not look at me, but kept its gaze firmly on the distant line which divided it from its own people. "Then," said I, "I suppose, like me, you want vengeance."

Then did the beast turn to regard me, consider me as if in a new light. 

"You would help me, against the service of your own kind?" it asked, its manner guarded. 

"What have my kind done for me, beside leave me to rot?" I did up my breeches, ignoring for the time the state I was in, and kept an eye on the wary beast as it mulled in its mind my proposition-- the second audacious proposal I'd made to it just that day. 

"You'll want my help in disposing of your own enemies, I warrant," it sniffed, haughty to the end. 

"I will. And in return I will be ever in your service." 

The creature smiled, its tail flicking once in the boat, and turned again to the setting sun. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright folks, there it is. The language was very difficult to get around. Just be glad I didn’t go for some of the more creative words for penis I found in erotic novels of the 1700s: truncheon, weapon, thick indriven engine, enemy, peculiar idol, charming antagonist, broad shelving head of coral hue, home-driven wedge, and pleasure-pivot.


End file.
